


From Great Heights

by Igor



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, First Love, Stoick's A+ Parenting, Toothless is freaking adorable, and so is Hiccup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Igor/pseuds/Igor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Hiccup falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Great Heights

##### i.

Hiccup loves thunderstorms.

He is trudging up the hill to his father’s lodge when he smells the rain. The clouds roll over the horizon, wrestling each other for the best vantage point. They hang with anticipation. Hiccup looks up in excitement.

It starts slowly, giving the young boy more time to reach the lodge and the safety of indoors. As he turns to slam the door shut, he catches a glimpse of the village under the boiling sky. There is the funeral party, and there is the grieving widower, and there is Astrid with smoldering coals. Hiccup thinks the coals reflect Astrid’s expression.

Suddenly the girl turns and walks out of the plaza, past the blacksmith and up the hill to the cliffs that edge the isle. Hiccup looks down on her and tenses, planning on doing something crazy if she decides to throw herself into the sea.

But Astrid stands tall, looks up to the sky and screams.

It is a loud, high-pitched raging shriek. It echoes through the village and around the forests. It passes Hiccup on its way back down to the shore and nearly knocks the smaller boy off his feet. It is everything Astrid: raw, passionate, and incredibly violent.

Unexpectedly, the sky roars back. How dare this puny human girl defy him? He is the Powerful! He is the Mighty! He is the _Storm!_

Girl and god battle it out over the cliff face. Waves crash against the rock, sending a heavy mist of seawater into the air. The girl stomps her feet and flings her hair so violently, Hiccup is afraid it might take out an eye. When the leather cord binding the tresses comes loose, she flings it into the tempest as if it were the mighty Mjölnir. But not once does she cease her piercing cry.

Her arms tear through the torrents of rain like blades. Water flies everywhere – it lands on her head and tangles in her hair; it sweeps down her angled face in rivets, twisting around her agonized expression; it tumbles down her back before free-falling into the tops of her boots and soaking the fur beneath. She is so wet and so cold and soso _so angry._

Lightning strikes the ground a few paces away, shocking her out of her rage and reminding her that she in on the edge of a cliff face in the middle of a violent storm. Her tears become a little less vengeful and a little more salty. She stands for a moment, then turns and heel-toes her way back to the village.

“What’er you doin’ wit the door open, boy? Can’t you see it’s stormin’?” Stoic the Vast makes his appearance. Hiccup stands aside as his father sweeps into the warmer – and marginally dryer – great room.

Hiccup turns back to the view, but he can’t see Astrid anymore. He hopes she made it home alright. He imagines her expression if he ever expressed these hopes to her. He also thinks he might have fallen in love.

“I said close the door, Hiccup!”

As much of a dutiful son as he’s always been, Hiccup closes and latches the door tight. But he races up the stairs to his loft and the large crooked window (he installed it himself) that faces the sea. He watches the bedraggled remains of Astrid’s pain pull themselves over the horizon once more, and squints when the sun come out.

Thunderstorms had never looked so beautiful.

 

##### ii.

Hiccup loves flying.

He decides this as soon as his feet leave the ground. In fact it is the only thought in his head at that moment because it’s hard to think when you’re hanging on for dear life.

He had made the tailfin on a whim (also on a guilty hope that this might be the apology he was looking for). It was thin leather, very smooth, and lightweight with iron rods he had slaved over for hours. He’s proud of it. He’s sure it will work. After all, meticulous planning and careful calculations are never wrong.

But now, a basket of fish, a little bit of satisfaction, and some skinned knees later, he reckons he’s never been more wrong in his life.

Flying is like squaring up to a cliff side – terrifying and exhilarating, but strangely grounding. For the first time you realize how very powerless you are when it comes to sheer gravity.

Terrifying indeed.

He can feel the whipcord muscles straining under his hands, contracting and releasing under several square yards of dragon flesh. The scales glint almost as brightly as the sun shining on them. There is a slight wind that has transformed into an intimidating roar. Another kind of roar sings through his senses and he remembers who he is sitting on.

He is flitting from conscious thought to conscious thought, now thinking about the tailfin that’s supposed to be working, but isn’t, and the height they’re supposed to be gaining, but aren’t.

They plunge into the lake with a _SPLASH_. It’s shallow, only coming up to his hips as he struggles to stand straight. The mighty dragon has fallen once more and is now trudging up to dry land, casting irritated looks at the small boy with damp hair.

But Hiccup has tasted hope ( _freedom_ ) and he will not stop until he touches the sky.

 

##### iii.

Hiccup loves instructions.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself as he clutches the small piece of parchment in his hand. It is a very important piece of paper, Hiccup thinks, and I can’t lose it.

Hiccup is suddenly aware of Berk in his peripheral vision. It is incredibly small, and he knows this means that they are very, very high up. But he feels Toothless’ exhilaration and he feeds on this, still high on the success of his invention. He amuses himself by imagining his father’s face at this height. Stoic would be terrified, Hiccup knows, and he feels proud. He feels strong. He feels like a Viking.

Then:

Toothless stalls.

They are very, _very_ high up.

His foot slips…

The sky is very big, Hiccup reflects, and he sees nothing but blue for a few crucial seconds. Then he is falling – wind and clouds and a very big shiny black thing flailing in the air.

There is an awful lot of screaming involved in plummeting to your death. Hiccup pushes his vocal cords to their limit before common sense kicks in and he starts looking for a way up. Luckily for him there is a dragon next to him that is perfectly capable of flight. If only he could manage to get to the saddle. . .

_THWACK!_

Dazed, Hiccup hangs in the air, only briefly registering the thick black tail that just smacked him across the face. But there is no time for dazedness. He snaps out of it with a jolt, reassesses his situation, and begins to grope for the harness.

It takes precious moments for him to settle into the intricate workings of his invention. As soon as he switches the pedal Toothless maneuvers himself belly-down, bracing for impact. They have both seen the large rock formations in their way. Hiccup scrambles with the parchment he’s managed to hold onto this entire time. It flickers in the wind before stealing out of his fingers and into the slipstream. 

There is a moment when Hiccup loses hope. But determination steels him – Toothless is his friend. He would be damned before he let anything happen to him.

The dragon feels Hiccup shift gears and for a moment Toothless thinks the boy is crazy – can he not see the very impassible maze of pillars in front of them? But he can sense resolve in the boy, and he takes it.

Hiccup hates instructions. It is obvious that his instinct is stronger than his intellect and that the annoying parchment was never needed. But he’s a little busy at the moment and doesn’t dwell on this long. 

They are powerful 

and they are together 

and Hiccup knows _this is flying._

When they clear the pillars, he is exhausted and Toothless is invigorated. They are both in shock and, to shake himself out of it, Toothless shoots a blast into the distance. However, the heat wave sticks around, blowing back Hiccup’s hair and curling the ends.

Toothless thinks it’s a good look for him.

They land softly on the beach under the cliffs. The Night Fury starts to pace, searching for the most comfortable spot of sand. 

Hiccup watches his in amusement and a smile creeps over his face. But a sly thought creeps to the forefront of his mind and he is filled with the apprehension and doubt of secret-keeping. _My father_ , he thinks, _my village. The people, the fear, the unlikely chance that they’ll listen to me – me! Hiccup the Useless._ He cowers in anticipation of ridicule and exile. 

Toothless blows gentle flames over the beach. Hiccup watches as the glass crystalizes into shiny baubles, but the dragon doesn’t seem to mind and settles into a nap. The corners of Hiccup’s lips twist.

There is still happiness and exhilaration and Toothless, and for a moment that is good enough for him.

 

##### iv.

Vikings are a proud people.

It is with pride that Stoic leads his village. He has pride in them; in their ability to push forward, their unyielding resolve. He is proud of them; of their fighting prowess and astounding skills. He revels in their strength and he smiles – proudly.

It is this same smile that Viking parents shine down on their children as they rip their dragon toy to shreds or beat the neighboring kids in a wrestling match. These children grow up with this smile. They love it. They strive to see it and often act in ways to induce its arrival. And then, when they are grown and have children of their own, they plaster that gleaming smile across their face and the process is repeated.

So, understandably, when Stoic the Vast looked down on his newborn son, he smiled proudly.

As the years went on, his smile seemed to lose its luster, until finally it dwindled into a deep frown. Stoic struggled with his son. He tried to understand the intricate workings of the boy’s mind. He wanted to see the patterns that only his child could see. For a while Stoic thought his son was just making it all up and decided to snap him out of it. He tried fishing trips, fighting lessons, weaponry training, and, finally, blacksmithing.

But Hiccup never changed.

When Stoic came back from the last attempted Nest raid, he thought all of his prayers had been answered. His son, the greatest warrior Berk had ever know! Warriors sang his praises, claiming the boy was a powerful guardian sent from Asgard to end the Dragon Wars once and for all.

And so it was with great pride that Stoic watched Hiccup thrive. He himself didn’t understand the boy’s methods but his success rate spoke for itself. Visions of his son, the chieftain – his son, _the Warrior!_ – danced in his head. Stoic was floating on air. 

The sudden realization that his son the Warrior had defied every custom and rule of Viking life and befriended a dragon hit him hard. 

Stoic raged. He bellowed at the boy, telling of his disappointment and betrayal. The boy never got a word in. He just stood there and took it, then bellowed right back. He screamed at the Chief tales of the dragons and their majesty, of the Viking’s tyranny over the Queen’s unwilling slaves. He begged and pleaded with the man not to hurt the dragon, the Night Fury, his _best friend._

But all was lost when Stoic caught wind of the Nest. From there it was heavy demands, short sentences, and a very large mistake on Hiccup’s part. Then: a declaration that rocked the foundation of their world. Also, some silent tears.

 

It takes some time for Stoic to come to yet another realization: Hiccup had never stopped trying to be a son. He, Stoic, had just given up on being a father.

This, the Berk Chieftain decided, would be rectified. 

Hiccup vaults into the saddle and expertly hooks himself into the harness. A large meaty had stops him and Hiccup looks up in shock. His (ex)father is staring at him like he’s never met his (ex)son before. Words are exchanged but Hiccup hears none of them. Hiccup smiles appreciatively and Stoic has no clue as to why.

Hiccup is going to war, the chief thinks, and it startles him. _My son_ is going to war.

Stoic looks up at his boy and smiles proudly.

Hiccup has never been happier in all his life.

 

Five minutes later he is falling from the sky and he has never been more terrified.

 

##### v.

He awakens to black.

It is dark inside his head but he can make out memories and small reminders to find more leather because he has a new idea for the harness since it’s started rubbing Toothless’ scales the wrong way – 

He awakens to glittering.

That’s what it is, he decides: glittering. It’s red and yellow splotches dancing in front of him. They scare away the memories and reminders until the only thing he can concentrate on are these little annoying spots of light – 

He awakens to Toothless.

Dragons are naturally graceful creatures; even Gronckles had their own distinct litheness about them. However, in Hiccup’s first waking moments in weeks, Toothless is about as far from graceful as he can get. His tongue is slimy and rough and pulls on Hiccup’s skin. Then, with bounding leaps, he manages to single-handedly destroy every fragile-looking thing in the vicinity and all because he was so excited to see his best friend brought to consciousness.

It’s a nice thought, to know someone cares. Even if that someone just stomped a big scaly paw on a very, very vital (and sensitive) part of his anatomy.

Hiccup yelps, semi-happy to know that his nervous system is up and running. But as he sweeps the heavy wool blanket aside, he realizes that a couple other systems are down. Where there once was a flesh-and-bone, furry-booted, very-much-alive lower leg, a new shiny metal contraption resides. 

Toothless pauses. For the first time is minutes he is almost silent.

It doesn’t take Hiccup long to figure out what happened.

One foot down and he feels apprehensive. Two feet down and it seems like someone is rubbing splinters and alcohol into a very raw wound.

He falls. It’s not a bad height but it would certainly qualify as an unlucky way to start the morning. A second later and this thought is replaced by astonishment at the softness and warmth of the floor. Not to mention, last time he checked hardwood didn’t rumble.

Toothless shifts slightly so that the boy can get a better grip. Hiccup breathes – in, out – and begins to move forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Written at midnight two years ago.  
> If you have the time, I would love to hear your feedback.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
